


Brand

by Roo_Bastmoon



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Light BDSM, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-12
Updated: 2013-08-12
Packaged: 2017-12-23 06:47:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/923237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Roo_Bastmoon/pseuds/Roo_Bastmoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to Bitch. Daniel's turn to dominate Jack.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Brand

Daniel watched Jack as he slid to his knees on the floor and wound the collar around his neck.

He took a deep, calming breath, as Jack had trained him to do, and willed his heart to stop pounding in his chest. They were really going to do this. 

“Go to the bedroom,” Daniel said, his voice soft, but full of steel. “Drape yourself face down, at the foot of the bed. Wait for me.”

Jack’s head titled to the side for a moment, and Daniel frowned, wondering if he’d misread the situation, if Jack had only been kidding, but then Jack nodded and crawled down the hallway, out of sight.

Daniel padded to the kitchen, shivering. He could not believe Jack would allow this role-reversal. It was like something out of a dream. 

Supplies. He needed supplies. 

He gathered up things he knew he’d like used on himself, and quietly made his way to the bedroom. Jack waited silently there, on his knees, legs far apart, his arms spread out over the base of the bed. His tanned skin contrasted beautifully against the black comforter, and Daniel thought that the faint white scars and brown freckles only added to Jack’s raw beauty and grace. His lover was a consumate warrior, and tonight—tonight, this man was his sole possession. 

If Daniel were to be frank with himself, he’d just admit he had wanted this all along. Yearned to have Jack at his mercy, or lack there of. Ever since the dream Shifu gave him, Daniel wondered what it would be like to have Jack chained to him, always down at heel, subservient and captive and willingly his. Daniel liked the idea of having power over one as strong and salty as Colonel Jack O’Neill. 

Daniel put the items from the kitchen on the chest of drawers and moved behind Jack. He sent the sliver of his fingernail down the back of Jack’s neck, over the collar, reminding him of his place, and smiled when Jack shook a little.

“Get up on the bed,” Daniel commanded.

Jack didn’t move. Didn’t stir. 

Daniel frowned. “Something wrong with your hearing?”

“Oh, I heard you,” Jack growled softly, still not looking at him. 

To Daniel, the room just darkened and the temperature dropped. So, Jack wanted to be obstinate, to make him force Jack into submission. Daniel supposed, as a slave, that that was an kind of assertion of power—the bitch manipulating the master to be cruel.

And Daniel could be cruel, if he wanted. He definitely had it in him. He could let loose on Jack, whip and beat him until he bled, even, and then hold him down and fuck him raw. If that was what he wanted. And luckily for their relationship, it wasn’t. 

“I see,” Daniel said calmly. He fingered Jack’s collar. “Perhaps you do not appreciate belonging to me? Perhaps I should leave you all alone?”

Jack swallowed. Daniel let him consider. Eventually, Jack shifted up on the bed, remaining on all fours. 

Daniel pet a hand down Jack’s back, noting the ram-rod state of Jack’s spine. “Very good,” he breathed. 

Jack grunted. He was taut and stiff and if Daniel looked closely, he could see Jack grit his teeth. Perhaps Jack bit off more than he could chew with taking on this role? Perhaps he began to regret it? But, Daniel at least wanted a chance to show him how good it could be to give up control for a while. 

“Lay down, Jack.” Daniel pointedly refrained from calling Jack his bitch, yet. Too early on; Jack was too tense. 

Jack obeyed quickly enough, and Daniel straddled him, pressing the heels of his palms on either side of Jack’s spine. He ran his hands up and down, up and down, increasing the pressure, spanning out in circles, massaging the nervous energy away. 

“Pretty,” Daniel murmured. 

“Master?” Jack asked, his voice betraying the fact that endearments and royal treatment only confused him. 

Daniel gently squeezed the back of Jack’s neck between his thumb and forefinger. Surprisingly, this relaxed Jack. “I don’t want you to call me master. You haven’t earned the title yet. Until I say otherwise, I want you to call me sir. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

This would be more familiar territory for Jack. ‘Sir’ he could probably manage with minimal degree of humiliation, considering his long military history. ‘Master’ they would work up to.

Daniel wondered if Jack thought this much about Daniel’s needs, whenever Daniel went under? Probably. Jack was forever concerned and protective of him. Daniel never appreciated just how considerate a good master had to be, how well he had to know his pet. 

“You disobeyed me before.” A statement, not a question. Wisely, Jack remained silent. “I have to punish you for that, you know.”

“Yes, sir. Looking forward to it, sir.” Jack shifted slightly, no doubt adjusting to a waking erection.

Daniel scooted down Jack’s legs, until he could see Jack’s pert ass. He brushed his knuckles over the light peach fuzz there. “And why is that, Jack?”

“Because, mas… sir. It gives me a chance to prove myself to you.”

Ah. So Jack needed a challenge. Like those problem-children in school, that were brilliant, but could be high holy terrors if they weren’t given enough stimulation. Well, if stimulation was what Jack wanted, Daniel could provide. 

“I so hope you don’t disappoint me.”

The first slap to Jack’s ass was, Daniel had to admit, barely enough to sting. He was new to playing the role of master, and wasn’t sure of how far he could push Jack. He didn’t want to hurt him, not really. 

“Count,” he ordered, more to disguise his uncertainty than anything else.

“One.”

“One, sir,” Daniel said in a voice that could have frozen lava.

“Forgive me, sir. One, sir.”

“Don’t forget again, boy, or you’ll regret it.” Daniel smiled, starting to feel at home in this fantasy.

“Yes, sir.”

Daniel smacked his ass, hard enough to leave a red hand print. Did Jack so much as twitch? No. Did he moan? No. But somehow, Daniel knew he enjoyed this.

“Two, sir.”

Using the back of his hand, Daniel sent two sharp blows onto Jack’s right, then left, buttock. Jack grunted, and this pleased Daniel to no end.

“Three and four, sir.”

“How many do you think you deserve?”

Jack swallowed. “As many as you think I do, sir.”

If Jack could have seen him, Daniel knew he’d be puzzled by the tender smile stretching his face. “One more.”

Daniel cupped Jack’s ass cheek, squeezed possessively, and then spanked him, hard. 

Jack let out a little groan, very tiny, and said, “Five. Sir.”

Daniel leaned down and placed a little apologetic kiss on both swells of Jack’s ass. “I’m proud of you, pet.”

He got off the bed, leaving Jack there, and turned toward the chest with his supplies. 

“Sir?” Jack sounded slightly concerned, abandoned.

“I’m here.”

A long silence, then a clinking noise, and Daniel brought a glass of ice to the nightstand. Jack lay with his face to one side, and Daniel looked into those deep brown eyes for the first time since they started playing this game. The look on Jack’s face—both aroused and frightened—made Daniel’s stomach clench. 

He took an ice cube out of the glass and smiled wickedly at Jack. “I’ll bet your ass stings?”

Jack said nothing. Daniel didn’t really need him to answer. He quickly straddled Jack’s legs, trying to keep Jack off guard, and then suddenly trailed a cube across one of Jack’s blushing mounds. 

“Christ!”

Daniel pinched the spot he had iced. “Silence.”

Jack bit his lip and lowered his head. 

Daniel slowly ran the cube all over Jack’s ass, leaving slick streaks of cold across the firm bottom. He loved Jack’s ass. He loved everything about Jack, but he couldn’t believe Jack was finally letting him have his ass. He should reward the man.

Bending even further down, Daniel licked at the water-trails with the tip of his tongue, replacing the chill with heat. Jack did groan then. 

He nipped and kissed Jack’s tormented skin. Using his thumbs, he spread Jack’s cheeks and experimentally circled the cube around Jack’s puckered entrance. He had to admire the way Jack swallowed his yelp. He pushed the cube in only a millimeter, then back out, again, and again, and then replaced it with his tongue. He loved rimming Jack. Loved it, because it was so filthy and so intimate and it made Jack so fucking sexy, when he writhed and whimpered… like he was doing right now.

“Sir… ah…”

Yes, there was the pleading tone Daniel had been looking for. If this was to be a contest of wills, Daniel would have to seduce Jack into submission. Fine. Daniel was better at seduction than Jack realized. He’d been in Jack’s bed for several months now, after all.

Giving Jack a last lick, from hole to cleft, Daniel got off the bed and went back for more supplies. He looked at the bottle of oil, but thought that was just too cliché. As were the strawberries. The knife had possibilities. But they weren’t quite there yet. He needed something else. Something that would feel good, but still show that he was the master here. 

Reaching between the stacks of books—past his Mabinogion and the Red Book, past Jack’s copies of National Geographic—Daniel picked up his antique plume and smiled. Perfect. 

Jack looked impatient. Daniel entertained the thought of letting him stew for a while, but he couldn’t wait, himself. He sat beside Jack on the bed, barely touching him, and dangled the feathered pen upside down. 

He teased the soft bristles over the corded muscles of Jack’s back, dipping into the crevice of Jack’s armpits. Jack reacted then, and Daniel could have sworn to God, he giggled.

“Did you just giggle?”

“No,” Jack said petulantly.

Daniel raked his nails viciously down Jack’s ribs. “What?” he said through grit teeth.

“No… sir.”

“Still insolent. I had hoped we’d moved beyond this, but I guess you’re not broken yet,” Daniel murmured.

Jack stiffened, but Daniel’s patience wore thin.

“Put your hands on the headboard. Now.”

Jack gripped the bars at the top of their bed and waited. Daniel went to the closet, picked two of Jack’s best silk ties, and began tying Jack’s wrists to the headboard.

“Daniel---” Jack warned.

“That’s one.” 

“Sir---”

“Two.”

Jack’s mouth pressed into a grim line and he held his peace. Daniel finished tying Jack’s other wrist, his mind racing. 

Why would Jack object to this? It wasn’t as if Daniel had tied him so tightly that he couldn’t break free if he really wanted to. In fact, why was Jack having such a hard time doing any of this? It didn’t make sense. Was he so afraid to show a little weakness? Didn’t he trust Daniel? Daniel had done the same, and much more, for him. So what was the problem with a little bound and gagged scenario…?

Oh shit. Iraq. Prison. 

And in prison, any sign of weakness wasn’t good.

Okay. He could deal with this. It had been Jack’s idea. Maybe Jack was trying to get over some stuff. Maybe Jack wanted to prove how much he could bend for Daniel. And once Daniel realized that, he felt touched.

“I’m going to give you a safe word, Jack. If, at any time, something becomes too much for you to handle, I want you to say ‘Stargate.’ And then I will know to stop. OK?”

Jack only nodded, and Daniel felt a moment of sincere dread. Maybe this had gone too far.

“I don’t think I’ll need it, sir,” Jack said quietly. “But thank you.”

Daniel nodded, but then realized that Jack couldn’t see that, so he pet Jack’s hair, as Jack had done many times before for him. Jack was a very physical person. He conveyed everything with a look or a touch. Daniel was a man of words. Words were his weapons, his livelihood, and tonight, they would be Jack’s cure.

Daniel straddled Jack’s ass and draped over his back, nuzzling Jack’s neck and planting wet kisses there. He pulled Jack up slightly, flushing their bodies together, and Jack relaxed, seeming to take comfort from his weight, from his proximity. God, Jack could be so endearing. Especially when he wasn’t even trying.

He bit at the juncture of Jack’s neck and shoulder, letting Jack nuzzle back with affection. Quietly, he brought up the knife, not wanting to freak Jack out. Although, in retrospect, Jack had been in Special Ops for years. He probably knew where Daniel was, and what he had planned, before Daniel did. Every sense, every nerve, must be singing and straining to figure out what Daniel had up his sleeve.

Daniel smiled then and brandished the flat edge of the little knife to Jack’s skin. Jack’s knives were sharp, always; everything in his kitchen was always immaculate and functional. 

Jack sucked in a breath and pressed his face to the mattress. 

Daniel brushed his lips over Jack’s ear. “Hold very, very still.”

The tip of the knife traced the most delicate patterns over Jack’s back. Daniel marveled at the beautiful skin, the bumps of vertebrae, the thick bands of muscle at the shoulders, the dips of Jack’s hips… the dimples of his ass. Gorgeous. How could Jack keep insisting he was an old man? Couldn’t he see himself as Daniel saw him? 

“Exquisite.” 

“You can mark me, sir.”

Daniel blinked. “What did you say?”

“I said, you can mark me. If you want to. Sir. Mark me as yours, I mean.” Jack swallowed nervously.

Interesting. Almost since the dawn of time, nearly every culture had a form of brand, like a tattoo, as a means of declaring social status—slaves, warriors, priests—or as a form of personal expression. Jack wanted Daniel to mark him, to claim him. It was a permanent gesture. As sacred to Daniel as wedding vows. 

Daniel nodded and sat up, paying very close attention. “This will hurt.”

“Ya think?”

“Jack,” Daniel warned.

“Sir… I understand. I want you to, sir.”

“Okay. Okay…” Daniel concentrated, biting his tongue between his lips, and stretched the skin at the base of Jack’s spine. “I want to mark you here, on the small of your back.”

He could practically hear the wheels turning—what would this signify at the next medical examination, and would Janet comment, and could it compromise either of them? Jack sighed softly. “Yes, sir.”

Daniel made tiny slices, wincing a bit on Jack’s behalf, but his hand remained steady and his strokes, sure. God, this was way beyond blood-play. This was like… getting married. Being bonded. 

“Hey, I know this,” Jack said, his voice tight with wonder and pain.

“Mm?”

“I know that. It’s Ancient.”

Ah, Jack must have paid attention to the strokes and pictured in his mind the words Daniel had carved onto the small of his back. 

“You remember?” Daniel asked excitedly.

“Some of it. I think… sir.”

“Do you know what it says?”

“Aveo amacuse. Cherished male companion,” Jack whispered.

Daniel swooped down, licking up the little streams of blood around Jack’s abused flesh. He let the metallic taste wash over him, let little blots bubble up on his lips, down his chin. “Beloved lover,” he said huskily.

“Oh, Dan… sir…” Jack struggled, his voice thick.

On an impulse, he reached up and uncuffed Jack from the headboard. Daniel helped Jack twist around, stopping him on his side, not wanting him to scrape his tender back on the comforter. 

He hovered on his knees, kneeling over Jack’s hip, and cupped Jack’s face gently. He handed Jack the knife, holding Jack’s fingers between his hands, and brought the tip to his left hip. “I want you to do it to me.”

Jack licked his lips. “It hurts.”

Daniel pressed the pad of his thumb to Jack’s lips. “Yeah, I know. It’s worth it.”

He wound his fingers around Jack’s wrist and took a deep breath, nodding. Jack cut him—efficiently, expertly—scratching in the characters as quickly as a quill across paper. It hurt, but not much. Daniel looked down, marveling at how skilled Jack was with the knife. But of course he was…

The look on Jack’s face nearly undid him. So wondrous; so open. He never once, ever, believed that Jack O’Neill would trust him enough to take him to bed, let alone, to show him his every vulnerability. He loved this man. So much.

He kissed Jack then—hard, bruising, his tongue forcing past Jack’s lips, delving into Jack’s wet heat, claiming. He tugged on Jack’s short hair, gaining better access, and used his tongue to mimic fucking, sliding sensually over Jack’s tongue, his teeth, the roof of his hard palate. Jack was his. His.

When he finally let Jack up for air, the poor man flushed and twitched, and if that hard-as-nails erection had anything to say, he was more than aroused.

“Sir---”

“Master,” Daniel invited.

Jack closed his eyes. “Master… What are you going to do with me?”

Daniel sensed Jack getting nervous. They were both on edge with anticipation. Daniel would fuck Jack, for the first time in their relationship. Part of him wanted it, and part of him was scared shitless, and if that was how he felt, he could only imaging the blind terror a man like Jack now faced down. 

Words. Words were his weapon, his cure. 

“Jack. You belong to me, don’t you?”

“Yes, master.”

“And you know that I love you, don’t you?”

“Yeah, master. I do.”

“So I’m guessing you also know that I’m going to fuck you within an inch of your life? I’m going to spread your legs and drill into you so deep and so hard that you’ll be tasting my come and feeling my cock for days after I’m done with you.”

“Jesus Christ,” Jack whispered.

“You want that, don’t you, Jack? You want to be my slut?”

“Shit… yes…” Jack surged up then, stealing a kiss, and Daniel was too far gone to continue with empty gestures of dominance. Jack was his, whether he called him master or not. 

He eased Jack onto his back, watching carefully when Jack hissed a little as his lower back touched the bed. He held his forefinger over the pout of Jack’s lips. “I’ll be right back.”

More than a little drunk with power and excitement, Daniel wove his way to the chest, picked up the olive oil and unscrewed the cap. He came back to bed and forcefully spread Jack’s legs.

Silently, Jack lifted an eyebrow.

“Shut up.” Daniel smiled. 

They both knew that perfectly good lube, in a variety of flavors, scents and textures, hid stashed in the nightstand, but fuck all if he wanted to use the bland, boring stuff for Jack’s first time with him. Besides, it was sort of tradition… Why, in ancient Greece, olive oil was one of the more common methods of--- oh, God, what was Jack doing?

While Daniel had gotten lost in thought, Jack sneaked his hands up Daniel’s thighs and now fisted Daniel’s stiff length in the maddening heat of his palm.

“Master. So hard…”

“I didn’t give you permission to do that,” Daniel said flatly.

Jack’s hands dropped to the bed.

Daniel grinned. “I didn’t give you permission to stop, either.”

Jack smiled back and cupped his hands together, silently indicating that he’d like some oil. Daniel poured a decent amount for him.

Rubbing his palms together—warming it for him, Daniel realized—Jack took Daniel back in hand and stroked him with such reverent care. He knew Jack liked his prick; Jack had commented many times on it’s length, it’s slightly curved shape, and the way it blushed red, like now, when he was so turned on, he was about to come from a simple hand job.

“Stop.”

Jack stopped. Albeit, reluctantly. 

Deep breaths. Deep breaths. Okay. 

Daniel urged Jack to bend his legs, his coated fingers searching and finding Jack’s hole. Slowly, very slowly, he pushed inside about an inch. Jack didn’t stiffen or comment, he just watched Daniel, frowning slightly. Daniel pushed in up to the knuckle, catching the twitch in Jack’s cheek out of the corner of his eye. 

Jack was tight. Really tight. Tighter than Sha’uri had been on their wedding night. 

“Jack? Are you a---”

“Yes, okay? Yes. Want it anyway.”

Daniel reeled in shock. Holy fucking shit. Daniel could not believe the amount of faith and trust Jack just placed in him. Okay. He had to make this perfect for Jack. 

“You’re sure? Cause there’s no turning back---”

“I’m sure.” Jack sounded really sure. “Please, master.”

Daniel closed his eyes and added another finger. Jack’s head tilted back. Daniel could see his adam’s apple bob for a moment, and he let out a breath. 

Keeping those two fingers pressed together, Daniel circled them a little, slowly stretching Jack’s anus and the sphincter inside. He scissored a bit, and Jack grunted, planting his feet more firmly on the bed. Now would be a good time… He crooked his finger.

A startled gasp from Jack. He found it. Gently, he rubbed the pads of his fingers over Jack’s glans, keeping the rhythm steady, watching Jack’s face intently. 

The lines around Jack’s eyes began to disappear. He stopped clenching his jaw quite so tightly. Daniel kept up his very tender assault, just guiding his fingers back and forth over Jack’s sweet spot. Occasionally he would circle his fingers around again, opening Jack up more, inching in a little deeper, but always returning to massage Jack right there.

“Ah… God—mmm.” 

Daniel couldn’t help a smile. Jack warmed up pretty easily, he really did want this, and Daniel felt grateful for that, because he didn’t think he could wait a half hour or more to make sure Jack was fully prepared to take him. His cock wanted one thing and one thing only—to bury itself deep into Jack’s ass and then rock sharply in and out of there until Jack brought him off.

But this wasn’t about him, he reminded himself. It wasn’t about masters and pets anymore. This was Jack. His beloved lover. His shield mate. And if you wanted to get horribly sappy about it, the mate of his soul. 

“Is it good?” Daniel asked softly.

“Yeah,” Jack breathed, nodding, eyes squinting in the darkness. 

“Good.” Daniel kissed Jack’s belly, nudging the tuft of hair that led down to Jack’s pubes. Using his other hand, he gripped Jack’s swollen dick and lavished some attention on it with his tongue.

“Christ…” Jack surged up, then back down towards his fingers. “Um… not that I’m complaining… and I can’t believe I’m saying this…”

Daniel stopped, waiting for Jack to make his point.

“But, ah, if you’re the master, aren’t I supposed to be pleasing you?”

Giving Jack a wicked grin, Daniel leaned back down, never breaking eye contact. “This gives me great pleasure.” He tongued Jack’s slit.

“Christ, Danny, even as a master you’re a cock hound.”

Daniel playfully placed Jack’s dick between his teeth and inwardly triumphed at how quickly Jack shut the fuck up. “It gives me pleasure to see you lose control, Jack. That’s why I like doing it.” He kissed the tip. “That, and I’m a cock hound.”

Jack laughed, an easy, familiar laugh, and Daniel smiled. They’d had tender sex and rough sex and sex that was filthy enough to melt the porn tapes in the VCR, but Daniel thought the best kind of sex was the quiet, trusting kind where they could both drop the roles and just relax and be natural with each other. They’d never had that kind of sex before. Until now. 

“You ready?”

Jack nodded, and moved to get on all fours. Daniel stopped him. 

“I want you to see me at all times.”

“But…”

“But, what?”

“When we did it like that… the first time… It hurt so much for you, Daniel. And I mean, I’m not afraid of pain but…”

Daniel ran his hands through Jack’s hair, nodding. “Like this.”

He pressed a hand to Jack’s shoulder, keeping the silver-haired torso against the mattress. Then he guided Jack’s legs over to his left side, drawing them up close to his chest. He snaked an arm under Jack’s, holding him steady, protectively even, and used his other hand to guide his cock to Jack’s hole.

“I’m not gonna lie, Jack. You’ve never felt pain like this.”

Jack gripped his shoulder and nodded.

Daniel pushed in.

Now, to call the urge to just rut into Jack’s heat something of a pressing desire, would be to barely touch the tip of the cliched iceberg. Daniel wanted to slam into Jack so bad that he had to bite his lower lip and grip his balls to keep from doing so. 

So far Jack took the head without too much trouble, but he was still tight, and Daniel could see the light sheen of sweat break out on his forehead and temples. He waited. And waited.

“I’m okay,” Jack said between forced breaths. “Go on.”

“I’ll move when I’m ready,” Daniel growled. “And I’ll be ready when I think you’re ready.”

He eased in a little further and met with much resistance. Jack panted now and Daniel could feel the blush break out on his own chest and neck. They both shook, Daniel in an effort to keep control, Jack with the attempt to keep from breaking down. 

He moved forward another half-inch.

“JESUS!” Jack yelped, turning his face to the pillow. 

Daniel let go of his sac and stroked Jack’s face. He put his wrist to Jack’s lips. “I want you to listen to me, Jack.”

Jack opened his eyes.

“Bite down.”

“Huh?”

“Bite down on me. You won’t hurt me. Bite down.”

“Dan--”

Sick of Jack always trying to do the noble thing, Daniel firmly pressed the back of his wrist into Jack’s mouth. Then he pressed his cock another inch inside. 

Jack groaned and bit down on him. Not too hard, actually, but there would be marks. Daniel wrapped the fingers of his other hand over Jack’s shoulder, holding on close, and drove in a little more.

“Mmmmm!” Jack cried, really tamping down on Daniel now, his teeth digging into Daniel’s flesh, his ass squeezing Daniel like a goddamn vice.

“Do you need to use your safe word?”

“No!” he muttered around Daniel’s wrist.

It was so unbelievably erotic. The way Jack tried so valiantly to control his breathing, to relax and take as much as Daniel would give him. Minutes ticked by and Daniel shook, his muscles aching, as he felt Jack’s body begin to yeild to him. 

Jack lifted up on his heels and grabbed Daniel’s ass, urging him deeper, and Daniel was unable to stop the thrust that buried him the last few inches inside. He was fully sheathed, and it felt so good, and so hot, and tight, and slick with blood and oil, and oh, Christ, how was he ever going to last?

He opened his eyes and locked gazes with Jack, who squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. Jack eventually eased up on his wrist and began sucking—actually suckling his wrist like a vampire—his tongue and lips doing obscene things to Daniel’s marked flesh.

Okay. He had done the noble routine long enough now, too. He pulled out, slowly, and eased back in. Jack blinked rapidly, no doubt combating tears, and Daniel knew how much Jack hated to cry, but he looked so damn glorious with those big brown eyes glistening, sweat-drops tripping down his face, trembling all around him. 

The scent of arousal grew strong now. Daniel removed his wrist from Jack’s mouth and lifted his weight onto both hands. He pulled out and pushed back in, establishing a steady rhythm. Jack moaned low, the sound dark and hot like summer dusk. 

Daniel answered with a moan of his own. He lifted Jack’s left leg up higher and pushed in until his balls slapped the back of Jack’s thigh. 

“Oh yeah,” he said, not really certain that voice was his, but it must have been, because Jack had bitten his own hand to keep from screaming. 

Daniel shifted around behind Jack, right up against him, and wedged his arm between Jack’s head and the pillows. Jack lifted his leg up even more and Daniel ground back in. God, it was perfect. 

Jack nuzzled Daniel’s arm, biting down on the soft flesh of an elbow, and titled his pelvis, canting his ass back to Daniel. Daniel sucked on Jack’s neck and drove forward more sharply.

He held back. It was Jack’s first time. He held back for as long as he could. But eventually, the dark, power-lust side of him won out, and he began spanking Jack with every thrust in and raking his nails over Jack’s hips with every withdraw.

“Jerk yourself off, Jack,” Daniel hissed in Jack’s ear.

“Oh, for crying out loud!” Jack shouted. 

Daniel chuckled, pressing a closed-mouth kiss to that ear, and Jack grinned as well. 

“That’s an order, Jack.”

“I’ll come too soon,” Jack whined.

Daniel stopped mid-fuck and dug his nails in between Jack’s ribs. “You come when I fucking tell you to come, and not a second before, Jack, got it?”

Jack’s breathing hitched. “Yes, master,” he whispered.

“Now, I want to watch you play with yourself. Nice. And. Slow.”

Fisting his cock, Jack tugged up and down very slowly, letting out pained breaths every time. 

“Fuck yourself on me,” Daniel murmured, licking the shell of Jack’s ear.

Jack shuddered and pushed back onto Daniel’s throbbing prick. Daniel didn’t know where to look first—on his cock as it disappeared into Jack’s sweet ass, or on the purple dick that Jack had clamped between white-knuckle fingers, or on Jack’s face—Jack’s beautiful, agonized face.

“You are the most gorgeous bitch I’ve ever known,” Daniel admonished. 

In response, Jack rolled his hips and pulled harder on himself. Daniel waited. Forced himself to hold stock-still. Jack worked with dedication, stretching his ass muscles on Daniel’s cock, torturing his own penis with firm, but light, strokes.

A few minutes later, Jack started to whimper and grow agitated. Daniel bit his lip and stayed quiet.

“Please,” Jack whispered in the darkness.

Finally, Daniel thought. 

“Please what, pretty bitch?” Daniel hadn’t meant to toss Jack’s words back to him; he knew it would come off like censure and set them both back another few minutes, but Jack had to learn to go under and stay under, and this was best in the long run.

Jack frowned and said nothing for a long time and Daniel gripped the headboard in an effort to stay still. Damn the man for having such a strong will.

“Please, master. Please…”

Daniel licked at Jack’s neck, moaning. “Tell me…”

“Please fuck me, goddamn it, please!”

Swiftly enough to shock Jack, Daniel rolled them over, brought Jack’s hips up and drilled into his ass. He got up on his knees and pistoned his hips forward so quickly that the headboard banged against the wall. He didn’t fucking care. Jack O’Neill just begged to be fucked, and Daniel would fuck him into oblivion. 

“Ah…AH!” Jack screamed, and Daniel wanted to stop, he really did, and ask if Jack was okay, but it was too late, he was too far over and Jack was too far under and so when Jack spread his legs and pounded his fist into the mattress, Daniel dug his nails into Jack’s ribs and pounded into his ass. His balls slapped Jack’s scrotum. He tattooed into Jack’s hole. 

Reaching around, he laced his fingers between Jack’s and brought their hands to Jack’s leaking dick. 

“Fuck, master! Jesus!”

“You’re… so… sexy… like this… you little… bitch!” Daniel growled, raking his nails down Jack’s back, stopping only when he got to the brand at the base of Jack’s spine. “Mine!”

“Yes!” Jack croaked, whining, pleading, absolutely desperate.

Daniel pushed them both down on the bed, trapping Jack’s erection between his own body and the comforter, knowing the material would feel rough over Jack’s blood-swollen cock. He pulsed his hips forward in large circles, screwing Jack deeply, then rocked them both so fast and hard that breathing was no longer an option.

“Come with me,” he panted and bit down on Jack’s neck and then he felt it—

\---The excruciating clamp of Jack’’s anal passage around his prick, the force of Jack’s shuddering orgasm, bucking his hips up, smacking into Daniel, his pungent seed shooting forth for the third time that night, coating Daniel’s hand—

“Perfect,” Daniel whispered in awe, just before his vision whited-out with his own release. He felt his come flood into Jack, felt Jack collapse and take it, and then he melted, deflated, merged down into Jack. 

They lay like that for long moments. 

Daniel blinked, suddenly aware of how aggressive he had been with Jack, and he slid off Jack and scooted down on his side. He pet Jack’s hair back, and stroked his cheek. “Jack? Please be all right?”

Jack slit his eyes open. He nodded. “’m good,” he said, barely a whisper.

“You’re sure?”

“…Sure.”

Daniel kissed him then and Jack smiled into it. He wound his arms around Jack, letting the older man rest his head on Daniel’s chest like a pillow. He stroked Jack’s hair and back, ghosting his fingernails over Jack’s arm. He just held Jack for a long, long time.

“…was amazing,” Jack murmured, sleepy.

“Yeah. I’ll say.” Daniel kissed his forehead. “You were fantastic, Jack. You have some great ideas.”

Jack cracked a grin. “I want that in writing.”

He lifted his head then, looking up at Daniel with such warm eyes. Daniel scooted further down, until the were nose to nose—on equal footing—and let his own eyes betray how he felt. It was scary. Jack was worth it, though.

They kissed, who knows how long, and Daniel sighed with contentment. Jack was here. In their bed. Alive, and safe, and his. Jack wanted him, Jack needed him, and Jack finally admitted it. It had taken too long. 

He hooked his forefinger around the collar. “Hey. Can I have this back?”

Jack lifted his head off the pillow and let Daniel remove the collar. “Sure. Don’t need it anymore.” Jack’s fingers circled around the tattoo on Daniel’s hip. 

Instinctively, Daniel’s own fingers brushed over the small of Jack’s back. He smiled.

“What?” Jack asked.

“Just that it means you’re mine.”

Jack gave him a half-grin and pulled Daniel close. “And you’re mine, don’t you forget, Dr. Jackson.”

Daniel tangled their arms and legs together, interlacing their fingers in a ridiculous display of girly gushiness. He touched their foreheads.

“I’ll never forget you, Jack. I’m not ever gonna leave you.” Okay. Daniel had no idea where this was all coming from, but this needed to be said, and he knew that sooner or later Jack would shut him up, just like always, but in the mean time, he’d get in what he could. “I’ll always come for you and---”

“—I’ll never leave you behind,” Jack finished. “I know that, Danny.”

Wow. Okay, wow. Jack just… wow. Daniel grinned.

“Can I go to sleep now, master? You went a little crazy on my ass back there and I’m a tired old man.” Jack chuckled.

“You sure you’re not hurt?”

“I didn’t say that. I am hurt.”

Daniel shot up. 

“Which is exactly what you told me would happen.” Jack drew him back down. “And I’m probably going to hurt for days, so you can rest assured that I will milk it for all it’s worth. But in the mean time, I feel better than I ever have, and all I want to do now is go to sleep. Okay?”

Daniel rained lots of little kisses on Jack’s chin. “Okay.”

“Think we could get under the covers? I’m in the wet spot.”

Daniel cracked up. Which made Jack’s shoulders shake with laughter. Just when he got himself under control, he made the mistake of looking at Jack, who sported this ludicrously pious expression. Which sent them into another fit. God, he loved this guy. 

He reached up and pulled back the comforter, decided he’d have to wash it later, and just yanked it to the floor. Jack waddled under the covers like a lanky, grumpy cat, turned around, and burrowed his face in the pillow. 

Daniel spooned in front of him, wrapping an arm over Jack’s waist and lightly touching his brand. Jack snaked his hand under Daniel’s arm and touched the same place on Daniel’s hip. 

“…love you,” Jack murmured, already falling into the folds of sleep.

“Aveo amacuse,” Daniel whispered into the darkness, the promise wrapped around them, more content in this moment than he ever had been in his whole life. Branded.


End file.
